


Sour

by outfightingtigers



Category: FLCL
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 14:04:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3770998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outfightingtigers/pseuds/outfightingtigers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A chat between friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sour

“You know I don’t like sour drinks…”

“Oh...right.” Ninamori brushed her hair back from her face, pulling the offered bottle back to her chest. For a moment she stared at Naota blankly, her thin fingers tapping softly against the sweating glass bottle of sour liquid. Then she looked away, staring off into the distance as she twisted off the cap to take a long gulp. “Sorry. I forgot.” she mumbled around the lips of it, her voice muffled and swallowed up by it. Naota didn’t reply. She didn’t look very sorry to him.

Silence thickened the air until Naota felt like he was drowning in it. He traced her gaze towards where the Medical Mechanica plant sat, which once vomited thick white smoke into the city. A jingle of change caught Naota’s attention and as he turned Ninamori tugged a few pieces of yen from her pocket, juggling them in her palm in offering. His first instinct was to snatch it up -- it suited him just fine if she was set back a few yen for stealing his drink -- but he ultimately refused it, shaking his head and jamming his hands into his pocket. “You keep it.”

Without a word she stuffed it back into her bag, her mouth still wrapped around the top of the bottle. Droplets of condensation gathered at her fingers, rolling down to splatter onto the pavement below. When Naota finally grew sick of it Ninamori slowly rolled her eyes towards him without turning her head. Her lips puckered and trembled, words sticking to the back of her teeth as she tried to talk. “Do you know where she went?”

Although he knew instantly what she meant he played dumb, avoiding her gaze easily. “Huh? Where who went?” He could hear her disbelieving scoff, and the way her clothing shifted in the breeze.

“The pink haired lady. Your housekeeper?”

Naota’s gaze lowered, seeing her guitar settled neatly against the desk in his room. “I don’t know.” He finally murmured, and Ninamori had to lean in just to hear it.

“Is she coming back?”

He was looking at the sidewalk now. It was a question he often asked himself, and a question he often was left with unanswered. He didn’t like to think about it. Ninamori knew that. Or she should have known that. His fists clenched. She didn’t seem to react to it. “I don’t know.”

“Oh.” She mouthed the word more than said it, and when he wasn’t looking she thrust the bottle into his hands. “It’s more than half full -- I gotta go, I’m running late.” She darted off after that, her long skirt bouncing in the wind. The bottle felt wet in his hands and he wiped it off against the jacket of his school uniform, leaving dark damp marks behind.

For a minute he just turned it over in his hands. She took the cap with her. His eyes caught the tip of the bottle and he imagined her lips pressed up against it, like a kiss. He frowned and threw his head back, chugging the sour liquid with a sneer of disgust.


End file.
